


How Galbatorix Stole Christmas

by Scyllas_revenge



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Christmas, Grinch References, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scyllas_revenge/pseuds/Scyllas_revenge
Summary: Everyone in Alagaesia loves Christmas, except Galbatorix, who decides to do something about it once and for all.I wrote this parody a good ten years ago on FFN and decided to inflict it on all y'all too. So...yeah.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	How Galbatorix Stole Christmas

A long time ago, in the land of Alagaesia, everyone celebrated Christmas: it was the best holiday of the year, for giving presents, decorating trees, and singing horribly sweet songs. Everyone loved Christmas; only one man did not. His name was King Galbatorix, and he hated Christmas more than any other day of the year, and despised anyone who celebrated it.

December 24: Christmas Eve

Galbatorix sat at his black throne, glaring at a calendar. Suddenly a messenger ran into the palace, bowing low before him. "Your majesty, there are carolers at the palace door; may I let them in?" the messenger asked fearfully.

"NEVER!" roared the king, his face instantly red with fury. "Send them away! Burn down their homes, murder their children, never let me see carolers at my doorstep again! Brisingr!" With a blast of fire, the messenger stumbled away, his cloak singed at the corners.

As the messenger opened the palace doors, Galbatorix heard a fragment of music from outside: "Silent night...holy night...all is calm-"

"AAARGH!" screamed the king, and the messenger quickly closed the door on the carolers.

"Sir?" came a new voice; Murtagh walked into the throne room, looking curious. "What's the problem?"

"Christmas! Christmas is the problem! It's a disgusting, sickening holiday, as is everyone who celebrates it!"

"But, sir," Murtagh replied, looking annoyed, "Everyone is celebrating. Tomorrow is Christmas!"

Galbatorix scowled darkly, clenching his fists. "I know very well what day it is. It's practically here! I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming! But how?"

"You can't," Murtagh said. "And you shouldn't try to: Christmas isn't that bad. It's actually quite-"

"SILENCE!" roared the king. "Leave me in peace, and never let me hear you speak of Christmas again!

With a sigh, Murtagh left the room, looking slightly hurt. The king sat on his throne, deep in thought. And suddenly, Galbatorix got an idea.

Galbatorix got a wonderful, awful idea.

"Murtagh!" he roared, and the boy turned from the hallway and came back into the throne room. "What is it, sir?" Murtagh asked grudgingly.

"I need to make a costume."

"So?"

Galbatorix smiled evilly.

Minutes later, Murtagh sat in a sewing room with a pile of red cloth and white trim, grumbling to himself and struggling with an old sewing machine.

"Now that my Santa costume is taken care of, all I need is a reindeer." Galbatorix said to himself. He thought some more, then commanded his servants to cut down one of the largest trees in Uru'baen. With magic, he fashioned two giant antlers out of the wood, and smiled evilly again.

"Hey!" Murtagh called from the sewing room. "Why can't I just use magic to make your suit?"

"Silence!"

Galbatorix then called for his dragon, Shruikan.

 _Yes, Master?_ the black dragon asked.

"Try these on," Galbatorix commanded him, gesturing to the giant antlers.

Shruikan ground his teeth together.

Once the costume and reindeer were ready, Galbatorix loaded up a sleigh with empty sacks, and harnessed Shruikan to the front. He climbed onto Shruikan's back, and roared, "Fly, Shruikan! Tonight, we destroy Christmas forever!" Galbatorix's eyes narrowed as he smiled and added, "And I know just where to begin."

Galbatorix and Shruikan flew south toward the Varden as the sun began to set. As they flew, Galbatorix reached into the sleigh and put on the Santa costume. "Wow," he observed. "Murtagh's got quite a talent for sewing."

It was early night when the king reached the Varden. "Stay here," he commanded Shruikan, and grabbed some of the sacks and snuck into the camp.

"This is stop number one," Galbatorix hissed as he slipped through the entrance of the first tent in the camp. The tent was decorated with tinsel, holly and pine branches, and sickeningly sparkling ornaments. Disgusted, Galbatorix shoved them all into his bag. Then he proceeded to bag the tent's food, furniture, and weaponry, while all the while the inhabitant slept soundly in their bed. He paid whoever it was no heed. "And now for the tree," the king laughed to himself, examining the small pine at the corner of the tent. A few small presents wrapped in newspaper sat below it. He took those, and then snatched the tree, preparing to shove it through the tent flap. Then, with a crack, one of the ornaments fell from the tree's branches and broke. The figure in the bed stirred. Galbatorix froze.

Eragon had been sleeping soundly until a small noise woke him. _Saphira? Did you hear that?_ he asked. _Do you think it was Santa Claus?_

 _No. Go back to sleep,_ grunted the blue dragon a few tents away. Ignoring her, Eragon sat up in bed eagerly. "Santa Claus?" he asked.

Galbatorix whirled around. "H-hello, little boy!" he said impatiently. "I'm...uh, sorry to wake you, but-"

"Santa Claus, why are you taking my Christmas tree?" Eragon asked innocently.

"You're really stupid, aren't you?" Galbatorix snapped. "Uh...I mean, ho ho ho! Of course not! You see, little boy, there's an ornament here that's broken, and I'm taking it back to my castle- I mean, my workshop, to, uh...fix it. Now, go back to sleep, before I kill y- I mean... uh...oh, just go to sleep, kid."

"Yes sir!" Eragon dove back under his covers, while Galbatorix clenched his fists murderously. "Blasted imbecile," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He stuffed the tree out the tent, and proceeded to the next one.

Within hours, every single dwelling in the Varden had been robbed, as well as the major cities in Surda, and Farthen Dur, Uru'baen, and Gil'ead. Dras-Leona was the last city to go. Finally, as the sun was about to peer over the horizon, Galbatorix was finished. He had stolen Christmas from Alagaesia, and now he would destroy it.

December 25

With his sleigh piled high, the king directed Shruikan to Helgrind. They reached the summit at sunrise, and Galbatorix laughed. "Well done, Shruikan! We've done it! The people of Alagaesia will be waking up soon; they'll be finding out now that no Christmas is coming!" He unhitched the sleigh and pushed it to the edge of the highest peak. "No more blasted presents, and trees, and feasts, and carolers!" The sleigh began to slide slowly downward.

Then Galbatorix saw something. With the enhanced eyesight of a Dragon Rider, he watched a congregation of people form at the outskirts of Dras-Leona. "What's this?" he muttered. The people gathered together joined hands and began to sing. Though it was too far to be sure, Galbatorix could have sworn they were smiling.

"What's this?" he asked again. "It came without presents!" He looked to Shruikan, who shrugged. "It came without tags!" Glaring at the mass of celebrating townspeople, he roared, "It came without packages, boxes, or bags!" He sat down on the rocky summit, deep in thought. The sleigh was still inching toward the edge.

 _Maybe Christmas isn't something you buy from a store,_ suggested Shruikan.

Galbatorix looked at him. "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "means a little bit more."

He smiled slightly, and put a hand on Shruikan's scaly shoulder. Together they watched the townspeople sing and dance for a moment. Galbatorix felt at peace; he even felt happy, something he hadn't felt in years.

Then Galbatorix remembered the sleigh. "Their presents!" He exclaimed, and dove for the sleigh, which was just about to fall over the edge. Shoulders aching, he managed to haul the sleigh back up the steep slope of Helgrind, and quickly harnessed it back to Shruikan. "Come on!" he yelled. "Back to the Varden, and to Surda, and Dras-Leona! We have presents to deliver!"

And Galbatorix returned everything: the presents, the trees, the decorations and food. "Merry Christmas!" he called to each town they passed, and when they reached the Varden, he met a huge crowd of people waiting for him. "Happy holidays!" he greeted them with a smile, and handed back all their gifts.

Then out of the crowd, Eragon approached the King. "Thank you, Santa Claus!" Eragon exclaimed, and hugged him.

This was too much even for the new Galbatorix.

"Look here, you stupid kid!" he roared, "I'm not Santa Claus! You must be the greatest imbecile Alagaesia has ever seen!" Throwing the rest of the presents to the crowd, he leapt onto Shruikan and sped away grumbling to himself.

"Goodbye, Mystery Christmas Person, whoever you are!" Eragon called.

 _You really are stupid, aren't you?_ asked Saphira.

Once back in his castle in Uru'baen, Galbatorix took off his Santa costume and Shruikan's antlers, and called all his servants into the throne room immediately. "Set out a Christmas tree, and begin a feast!" he ordered them. He turned to Murtagh. "Merry Christmas!" he exclaimed, and handed him a present.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Murtagh exclaimed, and unwrapped it eagerly. His face fell. "A new sewing machine? Are you serious?"

"You're welcome!" Galbatorix answered with a smile.


End file.
